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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478100">Early Riser</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceLiddle/pseuds/AliceLiddle'>AliceLiddle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Baz Needs A Hug, Canon Compliant, Depression, Freeform, M/M, Pre-Book 2: Wayward Son, baz loves simon so much, both of these boys need to go (back) to therapy, there are lots of ways to show love and Baz is doing his best</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:00:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceLiddle/pseuds/AliceLiddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Baz wakes up early now, even though Simon doesn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Early Riser</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello lovely readers! I woke up with this idea in my head, so I've typed it up and I'm posting without letting myself overthink this one. This is not anywhere near as fluffy as any of my other fics, so be warned, there is sadness ahead. Baz and Simon love each other in every fic I write, so please know that in my mind they do eventually go [back] to therapy, learn some healthy coping techniques, have open and healthy communication, and end up being more in love than ever and in a functional, happy relationship! However, this short fic is set pre-Wayward Son, so, this is just 700 un-beta'd words of Baz loving Simon and wanting to help him, without feeling like he's able to.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Baz</strong>
</p><p>I wake up before Simon. I always wake up before Simon, even though he has historically been the early riser between the two of us. I don’t wake up early by choice, though. I have to go to university. In theory, Simon does as well, but Penny and I both know that he’s stopped going, and we’re past the point of being able to say anything about it. He sleeps until noon on a good day, then lays on the couch drinking cider and eating crisps and staring glassy-eyed at the television. He skips classes, and therapy, and meals, and he doesn’t make eye contact with me anymore, and I don’t know how to help him.</p><p>I don’t think I can.</p><p>I think Simon needs to decide that he <em>wants</em> to try again (therapy, school, talking to me, <em>anything</em>) before I can do anything that will actually help.</p><p>That doesn’t mean I won’t try though.</p><p>I wake up before Simon, and earlier than I need to for university. I take the tube farther than I need to, going three extra stops, until I’m at his apartment and quietly slipping in through the front door. He gave me a key, and it’s one of the only things he hasn’t taken back. (I can’t touch him, I can’t smile at him, I can’t kiss him, he won’t let me love him in any visible way, but I can still enter his home.) I get the worst part out of the way first.</p><p>I find Simon sprawled on the couch and begin my morning my breaking his trust. He told Penny and me to stop using our magic for him, on him, but I can’t. I’m being selfish, and I love him, so I stand above where he’s curled into a ball, quietly huffing out breaths and drooling on a throw pillow, and I cast <strong><em>Sweet dreams</em></strong>. His brow smooths out, he sighs a breath, and I magic away the spit on his pillow before he rolls into it. I resist the urge to reach out a hand and brush away the curls that have fallen over his eyes. He doesn’t want me touching him (he doesn’t want me to love him), and I can’t ignore all of his wishes. I’ll waste as much magic on him as I can (it’s never a waste, he shouldn’t believe that), and then I’ll go.</p><p>I pick up all the cider cans around the couch and on the coffee table, wrinkling my nose at the smell, and carefully set them in the recycling bin. I spell the air fresh and get rid of the stain where cider spilled and a crisp was ground into the carpet. Simon must have gotten up at some point then, even if he only went as far as the bathroom or the kitchen.</p><p>I magic the dishes in the sink clean, and then I wipe down the counters by hand. He won’t notice, but I don’t mind. This is the only way I can take care of him, and I can’t not love him, I need to do something with all the things I’ve been keeping bottled up in my chest. (<em>Love, devotion, worry, fear</em>)</p><p>I open the fridge as quietly as I can, and see that Bunce must have gone shopping yesterday. There are ingredients for meals Simon won’t eat stacked neatly beside small things he might decide to try – little cups of yogurt, cheese sticks, a few flavors of pudding – and my heart breaks when I see the unopened package of butter that’s been untouched for over a month.</p><p>I fill a glass with water from the sink and add two ice cubes, then spell it to stay cool before setting it on a coaster for Simon to find on the coffee table when he wakes up. I go into this room and spell his clothes clean, just in case he decides to change and grabs something from the pile of dirty laundry, then I come back out to spend a moment just looking at him. He’s paler than I’ve ever seen him before, his face looks a little puffy, his nails are bitten ragged, and I feel physical pain stab through my chest at how much I love him and at my inability to help him.</p><p>I can’t work the same magic that Simon used to, I can’t just say whatever words I want and have the universe bend to my will, but I still try, every morning before I leave.</p><p>“I love you. Simon, <strong><em>I love you</em></strong>.” A deep breath, then he burrows his face further into the pillow, still fast asleep. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”</p><p>Then I go.</p>
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